Seducing Anne

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CONTENT WARNING — This story contains scenes of an explicit, erotic nature and is intended for adults, 18+. Story includes bondage, dirty talk with crude language, dubious consent, and graphic consensual sex. There is also a graphic birthing scene that some might find offensive. Characters portrayed are 18 or older.

This is a work of fiction. All original characters along with their names and the incidents they are involved in are created solely from the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or deceased, locations and businesses, along with events, are entirely coincidental.

Published by Mayhem Erotica Publishing

This book is dedicated to Anne Boleyn.

She paved the way for strong women to be themselves, no matter the consequences…

Acknowledgments

Edited by: Marti Lynch, Shenani Whatagans

Prereaders: Sir and his girl, Sarra Benaissa, Angela Bohr, Clair Doyle, Connie Lema, S.M. Leonard, Robin Parrish, Tricia Lockwood-Smith, Monica Solis

Chapter 1

July 15, 1809

“Lord Garrity, I . . .” Lady Callingsworth’s lips trembled along with the tendrils of her dark hair floating around her face. She gasped and fanned herself with her hand, her eyes darting away. “I must tell you something . . .”

Guy smirked. “Proceed.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

She did the same, and her ample bosom lifted along with her pale brown eyes. “I love you, and I . . . I’m carrying your child within my womb.”

“Are you certain?” He cornered her, had her sleeve lowered on her shoulder and was kissing across the tops of her winsome breasts.

“I am. I have lain with no other man since your arrival to Glastonbury,” she answered, her eyes filled with unshed tears.

He ran the pads of his thumbs across the apples of her cheeks. “That’s for the best.” He blinked and then stripped her sleeves off, revealing her bosom entirely.

“But I . . . You should not lay with me now that I am with child,” she said, pushing at him ineffectually.

“I shall do whatever I like, for I am the man you call Lord—I create life, and that is worthy of a reward.” He grinned so wide, his teeth couldn’t help but clatter for a second.

“But you are not my husband, sir,” she protested, slapping his shoulders, trying to prod him into standing.

“And that did not give you a moment of reflection before when I had my hands and cock under your skirts.” He flipped his wrist and had his knife out of his pocket, cutting off her stays.

She made a pained, erotic sound and then took a deep breath once she was freed of her corset and clothing.

He picked her up, tossing her over his shoulder. His time was limited now that she was pregnant.

He pinched her luscious ass cheeks. “How far along are you?”

She squealed and kicked her legs, then laughed when he swung her down onto the bed. Her eyes positively beamed at him. “I adore you, Guy.”

“I know you do.” He pounced on top of her, then licked her navel. “How long has my seed been inside you?” He stroked her lower abdomen.

“Seven weeks, and I only puzzled it out because my clothes were getting tighter.” She smiled.

“And because you knew your husband was not getting you with child, so it had to be mine.” He ground his teeth together and growled through his predatory smile. Eight weeks. That was how long he’d been here. Got the job done in record time.

One week to part this woman’s legs, and though he enjoyed it, he was glad to be leaving now.

“God, I’ll miss this bed.” He pulled off her knickers and hose. “And fucking you was the best part of all when I was constantly in it. How I shall miss the softness of these thighs . . . the plumpness of these pussy lips.” He whispered his fingers across her waist as her eyes darkened and her lips parted.

Her ragged breathing was usually enough to turn him on, but this time, he was tired. This was his goodbye to her—one last fuck before he disappeared.

“What do you mean, sir, that you shall miss these things? Miss them
how
?” Her eyes flew wide.

“Only that I break the rules this once, taking you while you carry a child, but then no more risk after that.” His voice was calm—even.

He opened the placket of his breeches, brought out his semi-erect cock and left the rest of his clothes on. It would be soon—very soon. That tingle of time and space was already rippling through him.

The signal was hailed.

“I love you, I love you, I love you, I do, sweet man!” she cooed as she jutted her breasts up at him. “Please, taste me. Tell me I am delightsome on your tongue like you have so many times before.”

“With pleasure.” His tongue drifted over her right nipple, then he flicked his tongue across the puckered tip.

He surged forward, his cock about to pierce its way inside her, when there was a clattering of footsteps in the hallway outside her chamber door.

“Where is that vile cur?” Lord Callingsworth’s voice carried and ricocheted around the walls.

“Don’t go!” she said through clenched teeth, gripping at Guy’s shirt.

“I must.” He kissed her hair, squeezed her breasts and then he was tucking himself back away.

She was off the bed, chasing after him in the nude and crying out for him.

The door slammed open right as Guy was dashing out the window.

He made a rude gesture and Lord Callingsworth charged after him, sword drawn and spitting curses at him.

Lady Callingsworth screamed and ran for her clothes.

She found her chemise that hadn’t been destroyed and slipped it on.

That was the last thing Guy saw before he managed to escape the rest of the way out of her chamber window.

Callingsworth’s men gave good chase through the gardens and yard.

But Guy was swift in attaining his horse.

They were hollering at him, rampaging through the bracken after him as he tore through the woods.

“Get him! Get that man!” Lord Callingsworth shouted, riding like lightning was in his veins as he closed in on his prey.

Guy raced through the bushes, sustaining scratches and multiple future bruises along the way.

“I’ll see you in hell!” Callingsworth would not give up.

He threw his sword, and it sliced through the edge of Guy’s shoulder.

It was enough to turn that tingle inside Guy’s chest into an overwhelming burn, and his vision blurred as his eyes watered.

A moment later, he was falling off his horse and then
nothing
.

All white.

All gone.

And he would be home before he could even blink again.

* * *

Buzzz, buzzz, buzzz.

“Go away,” Guy muttered into his pillow.

Buzzz, buzzz, buzzz.

“Give me a fucking break!”

How many times was the damn thing gonna go off?

His arm reached out and his hand grabbed for it.

“
What
? I just got in a week ago,” was his phone greeting. “My shoulder still throbs like a bitch, and the stitches are still in.”

“Get up and get dressed. We need you,” Kara replied.

“No. I told you—I just got in. I’m still time lagged.”

“I don’t care. This one has your name all over it. We can’t do it without you—it’s your favorite period.” She chuckled and took a sip of something.

“Go ta hell. And I mean that. You have the machine and means—have a pleasant trip. I’ll look you up in a few years when I land there myself from all the people I’ve fucked up,” he said, his voice thick with the remains of sleep. He took a deep breath, and his eyes stung.

“You mean from all the people you
fucked
,” she said.

God, he hated the recovery period afterward. It was fucking awful. His sense of humor always dried up, much like his mouth and eyes did. It was hard to keep his eyes open—they ached so much.

He reached for the bottle of water on his nightstand, and once he had it opened, he chugged.

There was never enough water to quench his thirst after an assignment. It took a solid two weeks to get back to feeling at least semi-normal.

“I’m serious about this—it’s right up your alley. Put some eye drops in and meet me here.”

“It’s right up your ass, you callous bitch. I’m not coming in,” he replied. “And my eyes are fine.”

“Now, now . . . Being quite the drama king, aren’t you?”

He chuckled to himself, thinking maybe Kara needed to try being an agent and see how shitty she felt afterward. Then, she wouldn’t ask this of him.

She pretended she understood, but every agent knew she was worthless when it came to sympathy.

“C’mon, get your ass in here. I’ve got coffee—the good stuff, not the cheap crap—some breakfast for you, and your fee’s negotiable this time. We’re even considering doubling it on this one—that’s how much we want you on this job.”

He rubbed his eyes and groaned. A bone-rattling stretch followed.

“You couldn’t give me two hours to sleep? I was puking my guts out most of the night.” His ankles wobbled when he swung his legs over, and his feet landed on the floor. How unsteady would he be today? “I almost needed a walker yesterday . . .”

“Quit exaggerating. I’m not impressed. Just get in here. I swear you’ll love this one. It really was tailor-made for you.” She clicked some buttons, presumably on her laptop.

“I swear to God, Kara, I’m going back and knocking up your mom, that’s how serious
I am
about this,” he said, voice even more hoarse than before. He cleared his throat, but whatever was in his throat was lodged good.

He took another swig and swallowed, trying to move the blockage, but goddamn, the thing was welded into his trachea or some shit.

Either that, or Kara had shoved a wad of cotton balls down his throat last night after he finally passed out.

“Ewww! That’s sick, even for you! And I doubt you’d have any luck with that. My mom was a lesbian and was artificially inseminated with me,” she answered, her smile evident in her bright, trilling voice.

“I could do it the traditional way, you know,” he teased.

“Okay, okay, I guarantee we’re gonna double your fee. Now, get dressed and come in. Do you need me to send a car?”

“No. I got this,” he said, his toes curling on the cool hardwood floor.

“Welcome home, but don’t get too comfortable. I want you back on assignment by the end of this week.”

His jaw clenched. “The end of the week? What’s the goddamn rush?” His molars were grinding already.

“You’ll see. It’s already been botched.”